


Is Something Burning?

by TheDumbestAvenger



Series: Whumptober 2020 [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, BAMF Peter Parker, Explosions, Fire, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt with a little comfort, Rescue Missions, Tony Stark Whump, Whumptober 2020, peter just wanted a churro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27004387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDumbestAvenger/pseuds/TheDumbestAvenger
Summary: What should have been a simple shopping trip goes horribly wrong when an explosion risks the lives of Tony and Peter
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Whumptober 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946023
Comments: 10
Kudos: 149
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Is Something Burning?

**Author's Note:**

> Day 14!
> 
> I'm really quite happy with how this fic turned out, I think it's one of the best! Also, I'm so excited to share tomorrow's with you too!! It's long, it's angsty, it's got feels pouring out of the seams!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> *Warnings*  
> Explosion | Minor Blood | Gross Overuse of Exclamation Marks in Authors Notes

“So, why are we here exactly, Mister Stark?” Peter asked as he skipped alongside Tony through the streets of a quiet Queens neighbourhood. Few people passed them, and those that did had the decency not to stare - not for too long, at least - and got on with their days.

“Shopping,” Tony replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. When Peter only looked up at him, confusion etched into his face, Tony explained further. “I made the mistake of buying Steve handmade bread from a bakery just up the street, said it tasted just like his mother used to make,” he sighed. “Now he all but refuses to eat any mass-produced stuff, so I have to come out here else risk getting the stink eye from Captain America.”

“Right,” Peter nodded slowly. “But why am  _ I _ here? Not that I don’t like hanging out with you, of course, just… I have homework.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “You know kid, that excuse is gonna wear thin very quickly. And you’re here because I need more hands to carry the bags.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Bags? Plural? How much bread are you buying?”

“Steve’s a Super-Soldier, I’m not trekking all the way out here every time he wants a super-sized sandwich.”

“I guess that makes sense.” 

They turned onto the high street. There were more people around, wandering in and out of shops at a leisurely pace, though nowhere near as busy as the average New York street. Tony pointed out the bakery, about halfway down the pavement, and they headed towards it. “Oh, no way! Mister Stark is that a churro stand?”

Tony glanced in the direction Peter was gesturing where a red and white stand kitted out with an umbrella, frills, and a huge sign simply reading ‘Churros!’ stood in the centre of the street. “Uh, yeah, kid. That sign couldn’t have been bigger if it tried.” Peter grinned up at Tony; his question couldn’t have been more clear. Tony pulled out his wallet and handed Peter a ten-dollar bill, “I like salted caramel.”

“Thanks, Mister Stark!” Peter sang, already running towards the churro stand, “I’ll meet you inside the shop!” He skipped up to the stand - luckily, there was no queue - and placed the order. The sweet smell of churros filled the air as the lady running the stand set about freshly cooking their food.

Peter waited patiently, glancing back towards the bakery every so often to see if Tony had left already, and practically vibrating just at the thought of eating the delicious sugary snacks. A shiver ran up his spine, setting him on edge as a smokey smell filled the air. He turned to the churro lady, “Is one of them burning?” She shook her head, also looking around for the cause of the smell.

Then Peter’s hairs stood on end, and his head snapped towards the bakery.  _ No. _ “Get down!” He yelled, diving behind the stand himself as the churro lady ducked. An explosion rang out, and a tremendous plume of smoke rose towards the sky. A wave of searing heat passed over Peter. Tentatively, he stepped out from the stand and looked around.

The air was filled with smoke and dust, making it hard to see; all around people were running or screaming. Rubble littered the ground, chunks of concrete ranging from tiny pebbles to slabs larger than the size of Peter’s head. Injured people lay on the ground, or frantically hobbling away towards cleaner air. The churro lady pulled out her phone and dialled the emergency services, talking to Peter at the same time. “Hey, you alright?”

Peter nodded numbly, his spidey-sense going haywire what with the fires crackling and fleeing citizens everywhere. His eyes landed on the bakery. Or, what used to be the bakery, now reduced to a burning shell of rubble, smoke, and death. “Mister Stark,” he muttered, slowly starting towards the building.

“Yeah, an explosion- Wait, kid! You can’t go in there!”

“Mister Stark!” Peter was yelling now, arms and legs pumping as he raced towards the building through the smoke. He didn’t have a suit, no mask to hide his face and filter the air, no web-shooters. Just Peter Parker.

He dashed through the front door, ducking under a fallen support beam crossing from corner to corner and frantically searched inside. It was a mess, charred bread scattered across the floor, shelves - what remained of them at least- fallen against each other, creating an almost impenetrable path. And fire. Scorching fire spitting sparks and casting huge, shadows dancing up the walls of the darkened room. The roar of their burning deafening.

“Mister Stark?” He called out, pressing his sleeve over his mouth and nose. “Can you hear me?”

Something moved by Peter’s feet. A hand. Peter crouched down, trying to reassure the person who the hand belonged to, trying to ignore how sootied and burned their clothes were. “Hey, Imma help you up.” Peter hauled them to their feet and threw his hand around their waist to support them. With a fit of coughing, they looped their arm over his shoulder and allowed him to guide them outside.

Distant sirens could be heard. A group of people hovered just outside the door having seen Peter run inside. He handed the person over to them and dived back inside with a chorus of ‘No’s!’ echoing after him. 

This time, Peter stayed low, where the air was slightly clearer, as he made his way around the shop. He rescued a handful more people, heaving the fallen shelves off of them, dragging their limp bodies towards the exit where fire services were now setting up a perimeter and assessing the damage before entering.

Peter didn’t have that luxury. He had to find Tony.

The impossible heat made his head swim as sweat poured down his face, drenched his hair and clothes. Shifting the metal shelves burned lines across his palms and even his enhanced metabolism couldn’t keep up with the amount of smoke he inhaled. But there were innocent people still inside who needed help.

The firefighters started to make their way inside, spraying fires with water as they slowly moved through the building, though the stifling heat didn’t die out anywhere near as quickly. Peter’s muscles screamed out as he crouch-walked his way towards the counter - the only place he hadn’t checked and his last hope of finding Tony.

“Mister Stark?” He yelled, ripping his raw vocal cords in the process. He barely heard himself over the sounds of the firefighter’s hoses.

“Kid!” One of them called. “You need to get out, we’ve got this handled.”

Peter ignored them, he wasn’t giving up now. He moved behind the counter, and froze. 

Two bodies lay, face’s and clothes coated in a thick layer of soot, only broken by tracks of sweat. One of them wore an apron with the logo of the bakery printed on it, the other was unmistakably Tony. Both were unconscious. Peter ran over, forgetting about keeping low, and shook them both.

Tony woke first, he started up, breathing heavily.

“No, no!” Peter said frantically, and lowering him back down. “Don’t breath in the smoke.”

A flash of recognition crossed Tony face. He looked around, taking in the damage. “Holy shit… Kid, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded quickly. “I need to get you out of here.”

Tony shook his head, his eyes settling on his leg. Part of the counter had fallen, trapping his calf beneath it. Blood slowly leaked from the wound. “If I move, I’m going to bleed out.” He nodded towards the still unconscious store lady, “Get her out, don’t come back for me.”

Tears pricked Peter’s eyes, he brushed them away with the back of his hand. “No! I’m not leaving you.”

“Kid,” Tony’s voice was annoyingly calm, “You have to. Look at you, you’re exhausted-”

“No…”

“Pete.”

Peter cracked under Tony’s stare. Silently, he looped his arms under the store lady’s shoulders and dragged her away, back towards the slowly advancing firefighters. One thing was for sure, he was coming back.

The firefighters shouted as he passed, though he ignored them all. Once outside, paramedics ran forward to help out the store lady and take her to an ambulance. In the hurry, they didn’t notice Peter grabbing a pack of bandages and ducking back inside. 

This time, he had to fight the firefighters to get past. Pushing and shoving, twisting out of their grip as they tried to hold him back. Eventually, he broke free and dashed back to the counter. “Hey!” One of the firefighters called, running after him with his own chorus of shouts from his colleagues.

Peter ducked behind the counter, the firefighter hot on his heels. “Trapped civilian, rear end of the premises,” he said into his shoulder-mounted radio. “Working on an extraction plan now.” The firefighter turned to Peter, his badge read Montgomery. “You need to leave, we can handle this from here.”

Peter ignored his instructions, instead running to Tony’s side. He’d fallen unconscious again, whether from the heat, or blood loss, Peter didn’t know. “I’m going to lift this, then you’re going to bandage his leg so we can get him out,” Peter ordered, holding out the bandages to Montgomery.

For a moment, Montgomery looked sceptical, but Peter’s expression remained determined. “You bandage, I’ll lift,” he countered. “It’ll be heavy.”

“I can manage.” Peter threw the bandages, leaving Montgomery no other choice, and stepped over Tony to get into place. Montgomery crouched beside Tony, preparing the bandages as he moved.

“Okay, you ready? Three, two, one.”

Peter lifted the fallen counter piece with ease, thankfully Montgomery wasn’t focused on him. He worked swiftly, manoeuvring Tony away while wrapping the bandage at the same time. It turned red horrifyingly quickly. “Done,” he said as he secured the bandage. Peter dropped the counter piece and moved into place at Tony’s shoulders, Montgomery at his feet. Together, they carried Tony to safety, Montgomery getting some strange looks from his fellow firefighters, and into the arms of the paramedics.

As they worked to stabilise Tony, Montgomery turned to Peter. “You ever thought about becoming a firefighter? Good instincts, calm under pressure. A solid foundation to work on.”

Peter smiled weakly, “Hadn’t thought about it until now.”

Montgomery clapped his shoulder and pointed back to the ambulance. “Go with them to the hospital, get yourself checked over. You did good.” He disappeared back inside the bakery.

One of the paramedics called over to Peter. “He’s awake, and he’s asking for you.”

Peter’s smile grew as he hopped onboard the ambulance and saw Tony sitting up, still covered in soot.

“I’m going to go ahead and guess you ignored me?”

Peter shrugged, “In my defence, you were asking me something pretty extreme.”

Tony smiled. “Thanks, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! If you did it would be awesome if y'all could drop a kudos, or even a comment. They really mean the world.
> 
> Thanks so much! Have a good day!


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